


Falling Stars

by SachiNau



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BoFA canon, Everybody Dies, Incest, M/M, Unrequited Love, depressed Ori, kinda graphic character death, threesome suggestions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SachiNau/pseuds/SachiNau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili and Kili are a set of two, nobody can deny it. As for Ori, he thinks you can’t even love just one of them at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are from Harakiri by Serj Tankian. I'm sorry that this one has like, no story at all xD I'm better at writing about feelings than actual happenings.

_„We're the day birds_   
_Deciding to fly against the sky_   
_Within our dreams we all wake up_   
_To kiss the ones who are born to die”_

Whenever Ori thought about the term ’inseparable’, the first thing to come to his mind was Fili and Kili. Nori once jokingly said the young princes are like a set of two nipps never meant to be apart, and that they would face great difficulties choosing a wife, because whoever wanted to love one of them would have to love the other just as much, and she woud end up with two husbands. Ori personally thought this concept would fit the brothers. Whatever they did, they did it together, so surely loving the same lass won’t be a problem, right?

Besides, chosing between the two of them would prove to be a difficult task for anybody. Ori, for one, was sure he couldn’t choose even if his life depended on it, and he was long since past the stage where he fretted over loving two people at once. They were a set of two anyway.

It was just Fili at first. He was beautiful, of course; his mane of golden hair, those piercing sky-blue eyes, the strenght of his hands and the ever-present smile lingering in the corner of his lips could sweep anybody off their feet. But what Ori loved about him, the moment they met on that rainy Sunday in the foot of the Blue Mountains, was that unusual warmth and energy the young dwarf simply _radiated,_ like he was a small sun on his own right, dazzling and vibrating with something Ori called the essence of Fili.

It was unexplainable. Others felt it too. When Ori later talked to his brothers about him, they said the same thing: wherever the prince went, he filled those around him with this hopeful, eager energy. He was the kind of person everybody loved: cheerful and kind, wise in his words, yet always so playful and mischievous it made everybody smile. And he always had a partner in crime when it came to his antics.

If it was about wreaking havoc, Kili was always there to take part, especially with Fili. At first, Ori thought the younger boy was his brother’s eager shadow, following wherever the other went; but soon he learned he was more like the other half of the blond. They were two sides of the same coin, though wastly different in attitude and appearance. There even were spiteful rumors on the market that their mother had an affair with an elf, hence her not much dwarflike younger son.

Ori at first thought Kili was much too strange to be as beautiful as Fili, and proceeded to ignore him; but in the end he grew on him with his bright, silly and almost too loving nature. After a while, he wasn’t even sure if there was a time when he thought Kili was ugly. Of course, his features were too fine for a dwarf, some ladies had more beard than him and he grew even taller than his brother; but there was fire in those stormy blue eyes, and he had a natural charm to compensate for his looks, enough to daze anybody. Even his own mother, as a matter of fact, enough for her to let him wear his hair just losely tied with a hairclip, instead of the traditional braided style of the line of Durin.

Kili just laughed and told everybody that his earthy brown hair was too straight and silky to braid properly anyway.

Ori soon just accepted the fact that you can’t love only one of the brothers. It was impossible. They were never apart for long enough to concentrate on only one of them, and even if they were, one would keep talking about the other brother with such love and care you would end up falling for him through little mentions here and there.

Dwarves were always few and slow to reproduce, so family was the most important to them. Surely Ori was close with his two brothers too, especially since both their parents died, but the bond between Fili and Kili was stronger and more tightly knit than anything he has ever seen. There were foul whispers that they were more than just brothers, but they never seemed to justify it, and denying would have been impossible. The way Ori saw it for the most part, their love transcended any kind of definition; brother, lover, friend, what of it? No need to put labels on a thing like that.

Then he accidentally saw them together.

The sight of naked skin on naked skin, the raw passion in their actions and their soft, repressed moans made up a picture Ori is not likely to forget. Half of him wanted to watch them forever, the other half wanted to join, though he thought he would ruin the picture.

He ended up running away, embarassed of what he saw. He couldn’t look at the brothers without blushing for a long while, and talking to either of them made images of their intimate moments pop into his head, making him stutter and red in the face.

That was just a few months before their quest to reclaim Erebor. The entire journey was a struggle for Ori. He learned to live with the feeling of admiring the brothers from far away, loving them as a person, for their kindness and unique little quirks. Now it felt like that pure love was tainted by lust; he wanted nothing more than to feel the iron muscles of Fili’s chest under his fingers, or learn what Kili’s impossibly soft-looking lips taste like.

During their adventures, he got to know even more about them, and loved every single detail. Kili smelled like summer wine, he was swift and agile like a rabbit, and he fiddled with the hem of his cloak when he was nervous; Fili actually loved knitted gloves because his hands got stiff from the cold fast, his balance was amazing and his hair felt like threads of silk; they both were much fonder of Ori than the young dwarf could ever imagine. They even joked about stealing a kiss or two when the quest is finally over and they escape the watchful eyes of the company. Ori’s cheeks burned so hot you could have fried eggs on them.

The brothers died before they could steal those kisses.

Ori watched them fall. Even in the mids of the battle, he couldn’t take his eyes off the princes. He was in a relatively safe spot, he could do that without putting himself in danger too much. Them however, they were stark in the middle of the chaos, defending their uncle who fell unconscious from an orc axe-strike.

Kili’s death was fast and painless, as far as Ori could see. It was a warg battle-mount without a rider, huge and ugly, fur matted with the blood of their kin. It’s jaws literally crushed the dwarf’s upper body. It didn’t even let got of him by the time Fili smashed it’s skull with his warhammer.

If Fili was scary before, from the second of his beloved brother’s death, he became truly terrifying. He was known as a fearsome warrior far and wide, skilled with the arsenal of knives and daggers he carried hidden in his clothing. In that battle, he transformed into the stuff of nightmares: a windwhirl of blades and blood, he was so blinded by rage he didn’t care who or what he struck down anymore; in a matter of minutes he built a barracade of dead orcs around his dead brother and unconscious unlce. The only thing that stopped him dead in his tracks was a wide gash across his stomach from a lucky orc, and even then, he only stopped for a second.

The sight of Fili slowly bleeding to death while on a killing spree fueled by fury, pain and grief was something that came back haunting his nightmares every time Ori closed his eyes to sleep; so was that split second of surprise on Kili’s face before warg’s fangs sank into his body; the two bodies next to each other in the cold stone of the tomb, dressed in white, adorned with gems, jewellery, and their weapons. Fili’s was so many it filled half of the tomb.

 It was like somebody stole the Sun after that. Nothing felt bright or warm anymore, nothing was beautiful, nothing mattered. He saw them in everything: every puff of tobacco smoke carried their scent, every glimpse of the sky was like their eyes; in his dreams he took off the cover of their tomb and kissed their cold dead lips.

Of course when Balin proposed another foolish quest to reclaim another forgotten dwarven kingdom nobody wanted back, Ori was the first to volunteer to go with him. He knew very well that something terrible lurked in the depths of Moria, and few of them would return from this mission he already saw would prove fruitless; that’s why he wanted to go. His life up until now was illuminated in a bright fire called Fili and Kili, and now that the flame went out in a flash, burning up everything in it’s wake, Ori didn’t really know what to do with the charred, damaged remains. He saw it fitting to lose his life in a similar impossible quest.

When he bid his farewells to his brothers, clutching a blank book, he knew he wouldn’t die a warrior’s death like Fili and Kili, but whatever kind of end waited for him, he knew it would be fine. There were two beautiful young princes waiting for him on the other side, after all.


End file.
